Fairy Tale Trap
by PinkWataah
Summary: Reality. It's what we live every day. And, as doctors, we have to focus solely on realism. There's no room for fantasy. What is real is the technology we use to get a patient's heart beating. What is real is the countless hours of studying that is necessary for doctors to research the newest medical theory. Doctors don't believe in fairy tales. That is, until we get stuck in one.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hello everybody! This is my first fantasy story ever so I hope you like it! And Reviews are what keeps me going. People can add me to their favorites and everything but I will never be motivated to continue writing unless I get reviews, that's just me! Soo review! And Happy Thanksgiving! **

"And then I hid behind this mirror that I am pretty sure could talk, in an attempt to hide from my evil stepmother who actually was this... Evil witch creature that turns into a big purple and silver dragon with teeth the size of a chimney!" I explained, sitting on the edge of my seat on the stereotypical psychiatrist's office bench.

The psychiatrist pursed her lips together and I waited for her response anxiously. She breathed out and walked over to the coffee machine to get us each a cup. It seemed as if she had lost all hope in trying to figure out what was wrong with me. She returned to her chair and handed me a beautifully made mug with the most delicious coffee I had ever tasted. "You are looked up to by everybody, but you won't be if you continue with this... Lie. This... This..." She took a deep breath and was at a loss for words.  
"All I'm saying is that there has to be some medical explanation behind this... Some sort of... Science. Some scientific reasoning because I know I didn't imagine or dream this!"

"I'm not saying you did. I'm thinking that maybe your high position here has maybe possibly got you over tired or... Something!" I brought the mug full of the warm, delicious liquid to my lips, listening carefully to everything the psychiatrist had to say. For a doctor, she didn't seem to know what she was talking about. "Why don't you just tell me your story, just one more time?"


	2. Where am I?

I was reading my niece Scarlett a new princess book, only about five chapters long. Halfway through the first chapter, she fell asleep and I tucked her into bed. I put the book down, but didn't close the book because I wanted to keep the page. When walked out of the room, I wasn't in my hallway. I was walking along a stone path with gorgeous flowers of every color lining it.

I turned around and the door had completely disappeared. I looked down and I was wearing a gold dress that hugged my chest and waist, and then flowed out. I also had golden gloves and my hair was tied up. It was so not me.

I was terrified and I looked around me. I was in the middle of a beautiful garden. In the distance was a gorgeous silver castle, surrounded by tiny, wooden one-room houses. I walked around quickly, in search of a telephone booth or... A hospital since I was obviously delusional. Suddenly, a little blue bird interrupted my thoughts and landed on my finger. He started chirping, but I understood everything he was trying to communicate to me. I was a freaking bird talker. The bird told me that I needed to finish the story, that I had no choice. I told him I would finish it within the week, that I had a job and a family I needed to get back to. it just flew away, completely uninterested in my concerns. Yes, I was definitely delusional. Certifiably insane.

"Princess Kia!" I heard someone call behind me. Obviously, I didn't turn around because my name is Meredith. Meredith Grey. After the voice called for Princess Kia three times, I turned around in annoyance. A funny, short man was looking up at me. I crossed my arms.

"Obviously your Princess Kia isn't here, so why don't you hurry along and find her?" I snapped. "And while you're at it, make yourself useful and point me to the direction of reality. Of the real world. Or, at the very least, point me to a hospital or a telephone booth!"

The short man stared at me in confusion for about a minute before toppling over in laughter. "There you go again, Princess Kia, with your silly little stories. Nonsense, nonsense. You must tell me, Princess Kia, what you are doing here, in your casual daywear, when your wedding ceremony to Prince Jacob is only two hours away! Pre-wedding jitters, I assume? No need for nerves, Princess Kia, two hearts are joining as one today!"

"Wait, shut up." I said, grabbing my head. "My name is Princess Kia?"

The little man let out a loud laugh as he took my hand and led me to the stereotypical princess carriage led by four horses. I sat in the comfortable seat, and he started steering the horses in front of me.

"Look," I read the man's name tag as he turned around to look at me. Richard. "Look, Richy. May I call you Richy? I'm not from around here. My name is Meredith, I already have a gorgeous husband named Derek. My best friend is Christina. I am a surgeon. I have a patient that needs me to be at work tomorrow. Could you do me a favor and point me in the direction of Seattle?" I bit my lip, praying that he would give me a potion or something to get me back into the real world.

The man did not say a word, just let out another obnoxious and prolonged laugh, complimenting my 'great sense of humor'. I slumped back in my seat, deciding that all that was happening was either

A) A very bad dream

B) A very bad, very vivid hallucination.

I began hitting myself in the face, right then and there, in an attempt to wake up from this dream. After fifteen straight slaps to my face without a hope of waking up, I decided that I was either in a coma, which was highly unlikely, or it was the vivid hallucination. I thought that obviously I was not stuck in a fairy tale because i knew that fairy tales aren't real. I didn't believe in the unknown. I believed in Science and sensibility and that was all.

Still slumped in my seat, I turned to face the peasant houses that I was passing quickly. I saw women and children cooking or cleaning and men and their sons laboring under the hot sun to do their daily chores. I sighed and thought that I should do something nice for them, give them a free check up from a certified surgeon, or give the, money and horses.

Sensibility and logic interrupted my thoughts. _They aren't even real people. They are illustrations from a less than talented artist who gives absolutely no contribution to society, who most likely focuses solely on herself, and has no chance at all of leaving legacy behind. I need to get out of here._


End file.
